The Dwarven Rebellion

by J. J. Thompson

  “Risk is part of our business,” Annia replied with a quick grin at Mel. “So what does binding them mean?”

  “I can find their location, break through their invisibility and force them to assume a corporeal form. They will be mortal for a short time. However, if you do not defeat them within that space of time, the spell will dissipate and they will resume their natural forms. So your opportunity to strike will not last very long.”

  “How long?” Mel asked.

  “Ten minutes, perhaps. No more than that. I'm sorry but that is the best that I can do. Oh and whoever is going to face them had better visit a cleric and have their weapons blessed beforehand, just to be on the safe side.”

  Annia raised an eyebrow but she nodded.

  “That will not be a problem. I know a cleric who should be amenable. She's constantly trying to 'save the souls' of our members. Rather silly, really, but she has a good heart. I'm sure that she would happily lay a blessing on our weapons, if we told her that we'd be fighting evil beings.”

  Mel rolled her eyes.

  “Clerics,” she muttered.

  “So what do you need to help you find the watchers, Larin?” Annia asked.

  The mage looked around the room.

  “Do you happen to have a mirror?”

  By the time a large mirror had been located and carried into Annia's office, she and her guests had been served some food, and Mel had changed into new clothing that fit her more comfortably than her old shrunken leathers.

  She was back sitting at Annia's desk with the older rogue and Larin, drinking tea when two young dwarves hauled a large rectangular mirror into the office.

  “Who would have such a monstrosity in their quarters?” Annia asked one of them as they stood the mirror in the center of the room.

  It was almost six feet tall and was set in a gilded frame. The frame had wide feet shaped like dragon claws and was painted a sickly orange color. The mirror itself was a large sheet of shiny metal, so intensely polished that it reflected objects perfectly.

  “It was Tallia's, Master,” one of the dwarves answered with a shake of his head. “She does like the look of her own face, if you don't mind me saying so.”

  He looked at it distastefully.

  “Hideous, ain't it?” he added.

  “Can't argue with that. Thank you both for lugging it in here.”

  The young rogues nodded at her and left the room, closing the door behind them.

  Larin set down his teacup and got up to examine the mirror. He nodded in approval as he tapped its surface.

  “Ugly or not, this is perfect,” he told the others. “We will be able to see anywhere in the city and make out fine details because of how large this is. I really don't understand how some of my people can use hand mirrors when they cast Magic Mirror spells. Squinting into the tiny things makes my head hurt.”

  Annia and Mel exchanged an amused look.

  “Perhaps you're just getting old, Larin?” Mel asked him archly.

  “Perhaps so,” he said agreeably. “Happens to the best of us, I suppose. Anyway, with your permission, Annia, I'll get started and we can try to find these mysterious watchers of yours.”

  “Whenever you're ready,” she replied.

  Larin began speaking softly, chanting in a language unknown to either of the rogues. His hands moved fluidly, gesturing precisely as he spoke. Both women were fascinated by his casting and Mel was sure that she could feel a tingling all along the surface of her skin as Larin summoned the magic.

  She glanced at Annia, who leaned toward her.

  “I never thought I'd see that day that a mage would be casting spells inside of the guild-house, let alone inside of my own office. Things are changing quickly these days, aren't they?”

  “For the better, I hope,” Mel murmured in response. “We need magic to fight Corbin and Cindra, that much is clear. Perhaps this aid will help all dwarves accept Larin's people in the future.”

  “Maybe. I like Larin. If he's representative of what other mages are like, then I want them embraced by our society.”

  Mel smiled at her and turned to watch Larin again.

  The edges of the mirror began glowing with a cool white light. Larin waved his hands in front of its surface, staring deeply into its depths. His voice took on a coaxing tone, as if he was asking the mirror itself to show him the things that he wanted to see.

  With a final flourish, the mage made a decisive gesture and stepped back. The mirror flashed brightly and then began to emit small motes of light that rose slowly and faded as they hit the ceiling.

  “Come over and join me if you'd like,” Larin said to the rogues. “We're ready to begin our search.”

  Both of the women stood up and walked over to stand next to the mage.

  “That was amazing to watch,” Annia told him with a smile.

  Larin looked surprised at her comment.

  “It was? Oh. Well, thank you.”

  He glanced at the mirror.

  “I've done this so many times now that I rather take it for granted,” he continued a bit sheepishly. “I've forgotten how excited I was myself the first time I used the spell. But you are right about how amazing it is. And it is a very important weapon that we can use against the enemies of our people. Of course Cindra has access to the same powers that we do, but each magic-user puts their own personal touches on their spells and so the magic responds differently to all of us.”

  Mel stared at her own reflection, relieved that she no longer looked like a drowned rat.

  “And what personal touch have you put on this spell, Larin?” she asked the mage curiously.

  He also looked into the mirror and smiled at the reflections of the two rogues.

  “I have incorporated a little extra twist into the overall casting of the Magic Mirror spell. A small incantation that merges with the main spell. With it, we will be able to see things invisible to the naked eye. I know of no other mage who does this, and I am quite certain that Cindra does not either. She probably believes that her watchers are safe from detection.”

  He patted the mirror lightly.

  “She is wrong,” he added.

  “Ah, I like it,” Annia said. “Shall we begin?”

  Chapter 15

  While Annia and Mel watched, fascinated, Larin used his Magic Mirror spell to scout out the neighborhood around the main entrance into the guild-house. It was now almost noon and the streets were very busy with a lot of people out and about, going about their business.

  Many of the dwarves were shopping, or going out to lunch. Some were taking a break from their jobs or simply moving around the city on various errands. The scenes were so normal that those watching the hustle and bustle through the mirror found it hard to believe that malevolent forces were attempting to seize control of the empire. But of course that sense of normalcy was just an illusion.

  “What is that?” Mel asked as the view in the mirror floated above the streets within a block of the guild's entrance.

  The main door leading into the guild-house was set into a wall off of a side street. It was quite narrow and the paint on it was chipped and faded. Anyone walking past it wouldn't even give the portal a second look.

  On a roof within sight of the doorway, something was moving. Like a shadow shifting in and out of focus, it eluded the eyes of the three people looking at the mirror.

  Larin made a gesture and the picture stopped moving. It began approaching the anomaly and, as it did do, there was a flickering and shifting in the image. Bands of colors flashed across the mirror's surface and Annia looked curiously at the mage.

  “What is going on?” she asked him. “Is some sort of hostile magic at work here?”

  The mage shook his head as he watched the mirror through narrowed eyes.

  “No, it is not. The distortion that you see is my little twist on the Magic Mirror spell. It is trying to nullify the invisibility field around whatever it is that we are looking at.”

  The
trio watched intently as the spell fought to focus on the shifting, distorting image. There was a final wrenching shudder across the mirror's surface and then the view stabilized. What was revealed drew gasps from Annia and Mel and a look of disgust from Larin.

  A black figure crouched on the eaves of the building overlooking the street below. It was covered with voluminous robes from head to toe that moved and swayed as if the body beneath them was constantly changing its shape. But even though it was hunkered down, it was obvious to the viewers that the figure was not a dwarf. It was even too large to be a human. No, this was something else entirely.

  “Daemon,” Larin whispered tersely.

  Mel glanced at him. The mage had paled and his expression was now one of stern disapproval.

  “Oh Cindra, what have you done?” he muttered.

  “She's consorted with daemons, that's what she's done,” Mel said harshly. “Whoever that woman once was, Larin, she is now wholly evil. You do see that, don't you?”

  Larin rubbed his eyes wearily.

  “Yes, I do.”

  He looked at the two rogues and forced a smile.

  “Have no fear,” he told them. “Cindra has severed any ties that she ever had with me and my people. We will not hesitate to carry the battle to her and...” he glanced at the mirror, “her minions. Summoning daemons? She is even more twisted than I would have believed possible. Gods, does her thirst for power know no bounds?”

  “Apparently not,” Annia said with disgust as she stared at the mirror. “Tell me something, Larin. What can those creatures do? What powers do they have? Can we fight them?”

  “Certainly. As Mel told you, Hallic killed one of them in the Kingstone headquarters. To attack us, they must fully enter this dimension. And when that happens, they are vulnerable.”

  Larin looked at the image in the mirror again.

  “But do not allow that to make you complacent,” he cautioned. “They are vicious fighters; fast, strong and with no regard for their own lives. Once summoned, daemons will do whatever they are commanded to do by their masters. Their only real emotion is hatred. Hatred for all sentient life; dwarves, humans, elves. They despise every one of us. Cindra must be truly mad,” he added. ”One mistake when summoning a daemon and she would lose control and have them turn on her. She is playing with fire.”

  “And while they are in that form?” Mel asked with a nod at the mirror. “What can they do?”

  “Well, I am no expert in the lore of daemons,” Larin replied. “You would do better to speak to a cleric if you want more detailed information on them, but one chilling power that they have is the ability to possess mortals. It is a disgusting and, quite frankly, terrifying power and one that we had best be on the lookout for.”

  “Possession? Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  Larin regarded the mirror for another moment and then gestured at it again. The view began moving upward.

  “I'll look for more of them,” he told the others. “You did say that there was more than one, Mel?”

  “I think so,” she replied, watching as rooftops slid past in the mirror. “I never saw them, but when I retreated from the initial attacker I heard two others jump from the roof above me and hit the ground. They sounded very heavy.”

  The mage nodded as he manipulated his spell.

  “So two more, at least,” he said. “Well, if they are out there, I'll find them.”

  Annia walked over to the door while Larin was working, answering a discreet knock. She opened it and looked outside.

  “Ah, you're here,” she said warmly. “Please come in.”

  Annia opened the door wider and a robed figure walked in. Larin looked away from the mirror and met the woman's eyes. He made an abrupt gesture and the image in the mirror stopped moving.

  The visitor was wearing a gleaming white robe covered with silver stitching. From her sash hung a row of medallions, all made of different metals. Each one was a symbol of one of the gods in the dwarven pantheon, and they announced to the world that the woman was a cleric.

  “Mel, Larin, please allow me to introduce a dear friend of mine,” Annia said with a smile. “This is Ursilla, the ranking cleric here in Cindercore. Ursilla, this is Mel, Hallic Barston's daughter, and Larin, a mage.”

  The cleric was very stout. She had a round face, with chubby cheeks and wide brown eyes that made her look almost childlike. Her blond hair was braided and hung down her back and she exuded an energy that belied her size.

  Ursilla walked forward to greet the others. She took Mel's hand in both of hers and smiled gently at her.

  “It is good to meet you, young one,” the cleric said. “As the daughter of Hallic Barston, I assume that you aren't very fond of my kind.”

  Mel seemed to be caught off-guard by the blunt statement and she fumbled with her words as she tried to answer.

  “Um, well no, I suppose that I'm not,” she finally managed to say. “But my father believes in the gods, as do I. We simply prefer to put our faith in our own skills rather than in beings who seem to be busy with their own affairs.”

  Ursilla patted her hand.

  “I am not faulting you, my dear,” she said softly. “We must all choose our own paths in life. I have chosen mine and you have chosen yours. I pray that we are both doing the gods' work.”

  She let go of Mel's hand and turned to Larin. The mage was watching her warily and Ursilla gazed at him for a moment, her face empty of expression.

  “And how are you, my friend?” she finally asked.

  “I am well, Ursilla. And you?”

  “Still working for the gods,” she said, finally smiling briefly.

  Annia frowned at the two of them.

  “Wait a second,” she said. “You two have met before?”

  “Oh yes,” Ursilla told her. “Many, many years ago. I am originally from Kingstone, you know, and in my long-ago youth, I knew a young scholar who spent too many hours in his studies and took himself much too seriously.”

  Larin suddenly laughed and the atmosphere lightened immediately.

  “Did I? Yes, perhaps you're right,” he replied. “But you also spent most of your days reading scriptures and learning all of the proper rites and ceremonies to honor the gods. So many years ago. But it appears that we were both preparing properly for our separate futures, doesn't it?”

  Annia waved the cleric toward the sofa.

  “Please have a seat, Ursilla. Would you like some tea?”

  “Ah, that would be lovely. Thank you.”

  She sat down on the sofa and its springs protested loudly. Ursilla chuckled at the sound.

  “Too many sweets,” she said jovially. “I should really leave the rectory more often and do some walking. But I am always so busy. Oh well.”

  Larin and Mel moved their chairs over so that they could sit facing the sofa. Annia poured a cup of tea for the cleric and then sat down next to her, offering her the hot beverage.

  “Thank you,” Ursilla said with a smile.

  She sipped at it delicately and closed her eyes in delight.

  “Lovely,” she said. “Just sweet enough for my taste.”

  She opened her eyes again and looked over at the mirror. Its surface was still displaying a picture of the roofs close to the rogues guild.

  “A spell?” Ursilla asked the mage.

  “Yes. We are searching for some beings that were sent by the son of the king to spy on the guild. That is why you are here,” he added.

  “Is it? How interesting,” Ursilla replied. “So the illegitimate prince is moving to affect the empire? I was wondering when he would begin.”

  “You know about Corbin?” Mel asked her, surprised.

  The cleric put her cup down on a side table and smoothed her robe over her ample stomach before answering. She glanced at Annia, who nodded at her.

  “My dear friend here has kept me apprised of the situation,” Ursilla told Mel and Larin. “As the ranking cleric here in Cindercore,
I have a certain amount of influence with the populace and Annia felt it was important that I know what Corbin is up to.”

  “Good. That will save us time,” Larin said. “Ursilla, we wanted to speak with you because we are facing supernatural enemies right now and your expertise is needed.”

  Ursilla looked at him sharply.

  “What enemies?” she asked quickly.

  “Daemons. They ambushed Mel when she arrived in the city and have apparently been spying on the guild for Corbin. We want to deal with them quickly, both for the safety of the rogues and to send a message to the prince.”

  “Wait. How is Corbin controlling daemons?” Ursilla asked him skeptically. “According to everything that I've heard, from Annia and others, he is not a very bright person and he certainly has no control over magical powers.”

  Larin hesitated before he answered and Ursilla raised an eyebrow.

  “What is happening, old friend?” she asked the mage. “We may not have seen each other for many years, but I remember that expression. You are deeply troubled by something.”

  “Am I that transparent?” Larin asked her with a rueful smile. “Your memory serves you well, Ursilla. Yes, I am troubled. One of my people has broken away from us. She has taken a dark path and now works for Corbin. Or perhaps he is enslaved by her. There is no way to know. But either way, she is the one controlling these daemons and she presents the real threat to the crown and to the empire. She must be stopped, but first we have this immediate problem to deal with.”

  “I see.”

  Ursilla picked up her cup again and drank more tea. Then she looked over at the mirror with narrowed eyes.

  “Clerics and mages do not work well together,” she told Larin. “As you well know. Our powers are diametrically opposed to each other. But I think the gods would not be offended if I aided you in this. Show me these monsters, my friend.”

  Larin nodded and stood up. He walked over to the mirror and made a gesture. The view began moving again, scanning the rooftops.